


Over the Moon

by VioletHaze



Series: Hole Punch Fun [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Doctor Castiel, M/M, Medical Patient Dean, houston we have a problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 19:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHaze/pseuds/VioletHaze
Summary: "It’s highly unusual for a young, healthy man such as yourself to have this sort of pain without a precipitating incident.” At this, Dean’s eyes dart away and he chews his lip again, which solidifies Cas's suspicion that he hasn't been given the whole story. Cas uses his most sincere and kind hey-I’m-here-to-help voice. “Mr. Winchester, it’s important that you be honest with me so that I can provide you with the appropriate medical care.”





	Over the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NowMakeThemKiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowMakeThemKiss/gifts).



> Christy, I love and adore you and you inspire me in so many ways! (Some more specific than others.)

“Dr. Novak? Room nine is ready for you.”

Cas looks up from the computer where he’s been charting notes on a previous patient. The nurse is smiling as she absently touches her hair, and he’s worked with her enough to know what that means. He stands up, straightening the white coat he’s wearing over his dark blue scrubs and sets off to see his next patient. The emergency department is blessedly calm at the moment, but he knows that can change in the blink of an eye. He raps on the door frame of room nine to announce his arrival and, sure enough, the patient in the bed is an extremely attractive man.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Novak.” Cas thoroughly rubs some sanitizer onto his hands before shaking the man’s hand.

“Dean Winchester,” the man says. He smiles broadly—a smirk, almost—but makes no move to sit up from where he’s lying nearly flat.

Cas moves the wheeled stool from in front of the computer so that he can sit at eye level while they speak. “What brought you in today?” He’s had a glance at the board before entering the room so he knows there’s a complaint of back pain, but it’s always best to get the story directly from the patient.

“I’m having pain in my back. It, uh, came on pretty suddenly, I guess. It’s on both sides, down in my lower back.”

“Was there a precipitating incident?” Dean chews his lip a moment and Cas tries making the question more clear. “Did you do something to hurt it?”

“No, not really. I don’t think so. It just sort of started hurting and then I could barely move.”

Cas stifles a sigh. These sorts of vague answers always put him on alert for patients seeking pain medications. He’ll have his nurse check to see if Mr. Winchester has been seen in other emergency departments recently telling a similar story.

“How long have you been having this pain?”

“Since earlier today.”

“Would you describe it as a sharp pain? A burning pain?”

“It’s sharp when I move but otherwise sort of steady.”

Cas asks additional questions and determines that Mr. Winchester has not had this sort of pain before, nor does he have a history of back pain in general. “Ok, I’d like to examine you so I can have a better idea of what’s going on. I’m going to move the head of the bed to sit you up.” He watches as the bed changes position, noting the way Mr. Winchester winces as he’s brought upright then turns to sit so his feet are hanging over the edge. Cas listens to his heart and asks him to wiggle his toes. Then Cas walks around to the other side of the bed to examine his back. From the way the gown hangs loosely open, he can see that Dean is a muscular man. It was obvious from their handshake that he’s no stranger to work, his hands calloused and strong. “What sort of work do you do?” he asks, both to make conversation and get an idea of his lifestyle.

“I’m a mechanic.”

Cas uses his stethoscope to listen to his lungs, instructing him to take deep breaths. He notes the way Dean holds his body fairly rigidly, as though the pain is genuine. “I imagine you do some heavy lifting in a job like that.”

“Some,” Dean says. “Maybe I did something getting up off my creeper.”

“Is that something you remember doing?”

“I mean, not really?”

Cas continues his examination. He’s seen enough patients complaining of pain to know that Dean is either genuinely hurting or he’s faking it really well. It’s in the stiffness of his movements, and the drawn tightness of his features. His casual attitude seems to minimize what he’s feeling, giving Cas a sense that he’s almost toughing it out, as opposed to playing it up for dramatic effect.

When he’s moved back around the bed to face Dean, he sees him shift slightly on the table, wincing again. Cas keeps his gaze on him but, while Dean turns a little pink, instead of looking away, Dean licks his lips and stares back. It’s Cas who finally breaks eye contact, moving the stool so that he can sit in front of the computer. He pulls up Dean’s chart and begins to make some notes on his examination so far.

“Ok, let’s go through this again. You don’t remember injuring yourself, but the pain came on suddenly and is present on both sides.”

“Well, it started on my right side,” Dean clarifies. “Then it spread to the left.”

Cas stops typing, his brow furrowed. Perhaps this is an atypical presentation of a kidney stone. “Mr. Winchester, are you experiencing any pain or difficulty with urination?”

“What? No!” He shifts again in surprise and goes pale, grimacing.

Cas gets up and approaches the bed, moving toward the switch that will allow it to lie flat again. “Could you lie on your stomach please?”

Dean complies, although his movements are short and jerky. Cas is no long concerned about the validity of the pain, now it’s just a matter of determining the source.

He checks for tenderness higher up on his back, where his kidneys are, but Dean denies any pain there. The gown has fallen open and Cas is treated to a sight of his naked ass, but Cas sees naked bodies day and night and he’s immune to it. Ok, maybe not immune exactly, but able to maintain a professional demeanor. He lets his eyes follow the line of Dean’s spine, pressing gently on his lower back.

When he’s through, he strips off his gloves and returns to his seat on the stool. Dean seems content to remain on his stomach.

“All right, Mr. Winchester, I think the next course of action would be an ultrasound to check your kidneys. The way you’re describing your pain, I can’t be certain that it’s muscular.”

Dean scoffs at Cas’s assessment. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’m pretty sure I just threw out my back.”

Because he is a professional, Dr. Novak does not roll his eyes. “It’s highly unusual for a young, healthy man such as yourself to have this sort of pain without a precipitating incident.” At this, Dean’s eyes dart away and he chews his lip again, which solidifies Cas's suspicion that he hasn't been given the whole story. Cas uses his most sincere and kind _hey-I’m-here-to-help_ voice. “Mr. Winchester, it’s important that you be honest with me so that I can provide you with the appropriate medical care.”

Dean’s arms are folded under him, his cheek resting on his hands. He takes a deep breath and begins to speak, his eyes never leaving Cas’s. “Ok, look, doc. Here’s the deal. I got this new dildo. Bought it on the internet and it finally got delivered. It’s huge. And thick. Shaped like a rocket. Definitely not my first rodeo, if you get my drift, but this was bigger than I’ve ever had before. I tried my best to get it in but apparently my eyes were bigger than my...well, anyhow. There I was on all fours reaching around with my right hand to get it in and I felt something in my lower back give and I knew right then it was _Houston we have a problem_. So, I thought maybe if I just twisted around on the other side it might, like, undo the first problem. Switched hands, switched sides, tried that and the only thing that happened was the other side went out too.” He sighs. “Maybe if you write me a note I can get my money back.”

He continues to look at Cas, completely unabashed and with a hint of mischief in his eyes. It’s a good look on him, but Cas can tell Dean’s going for shock effect here, and he knows he must choose his next words carefully. Keeping his face perfectly neutral, he looks at Dean for a long, silent beat. As the silence stretches, he sees Dean’s face fall, the smug look replaced by something softer. There’s a hesitation in his eyes and Cas can see the vulnerable man behind the mask of bravado.

His decision made, Cas pulls his glasses out of his white coat pocket and polishes the lenses on the hem of his scrub shirt before sliding them on. “Was this the Space Cram?”

There’s no other word for it. Dean literally _sputters._ “Yeah,” he finally manages, eyes wide.

Nodding sagely, Cas says, “That one requires a certain finesse.”

Dean starts to laugh, blushing so hard that his freckles stand out, and Cas can’t help it. He laughs as well, loud enough that the nurse pokes her head back in.

“Need anything, Dr. Novak?” she asks hopefully.

“We’re all good here, thank you.”

She casts one last look at Dean before leaving again.

“Ok, Mr. Winchester. I’m going to write you a prescription for muscle relaxers, which should do the trick. Take it easy and if things don’t feel better in a few days, you may require some follow up.”

Dean has slowly gotten himself back to a sitting position while Cas types his care instructions into the computer. “Follow up...here?” he ventures.

“With your regular doctor,” Cas answers.

“Oh!” Dean brightens. “So you and I are done here?”

Cas shrugs. Generally he enjoys the quick pace of emergency medicine. “It would appear so.”

Dean rubs a hand at the back of his neck. The confidence is back, Cas notes, but not at the cocky level from earlier. “So we are no longer in a doctor-patient relationship.”

“Not once you are discharged.”

“In that case, would you like to have dinner sometime?” He falters a little as Cas meets his eyes. “It, uh, appears you have some expertise that I could benefit from.”

Cas writes his name and phone number down on a post-it note before he shakes Dean’s hand again and leaves the room.

There are hours left before his shift ends. He has other patients to see, additional charting to do, and he’s too professional to let the thought of possibly hearing from Dean distract him from his work. He can’t help but notice however, when the status on Dean’s chart changes to _Discharged_.

He’s waiting on a final test result for one last patient before he can go home when his phone buzzes.

_This is some good shit glad i came in_

Cas smiles at the screen. Nothing like a muscle relaxer to make everything right with the world. He gets ready to reply but another text comes through before he can.

_This is Dean btw_

**I figured. Glad you are feeling better.**

_You were really cool. We should go out_

**I’d like that**

_Right now i’m gonna sleep_

**Good plan**

No more texts arrive and Cas is torn between being glad Dean is feeling better and wondering if he’ll regret his communications in the morning.

*

Cas is off the next day and he sleeps late. When he wakes, he finds a series of texts from Dean.

_Hope it’s not weird that i texted_

_My back is way better today_

_Did you want to get dinner tonight?_

_You’re probably busy doing important doctor things._

The last text came almost ninety minutes ago and Cas runs a hand through his hair as he formulates a response. Unfortunately, he’s pre-coffee and all he taps out is a hurried **Yes**

He sees the typing bubble start almost immediately. _Uh to which question._

Cas squints at his phone until he figure out what is being asked. Shit.

**No not weird yes to dinner.**

**Sorry i’m still in bed**

Dean sends back the smirk emoji.

Cas replies with the rocket.

*

They make a plan to meet that evening at a burger place not too far from the hospital. It doesn’t occur to him that he hasn’t seen Dean in anything but a hospital gown until he spies him at a booth in jeans, a henley, and a leather jacket. From the way Dean is looking at him in his jeans and button down shirt, the surprise must go both ways.

Dean gets to his feet when Cas approaches and Cas can see right away how much more comfortably he’s moving.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

They shake hands and it’s a little awkward. Cas decides to address the elephant in the room as soon as he sits down on the other side of the booth. “I don’t usually do this,” he admits. He can see the wary look on Dean’s face at that. “But I said yes because I wanted to get to know you better.”

Dean relaxes a little bit, but he chews his lip for a moment, like he did when Cas was questioning him in the hospital. It’s almost hypnotic and Cas has to tear his gaze away when he starts to speak. “Look, I get it. You’re a doctor. I’m a mechanic. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Cas tilts his head as Dean busies himself putting his napkin in his lap and studiously not making eye contact. “I meant going out with someone I’d met as a patient. It doesn’t matter to me what you do,” he clarifies.

A relieved smile crosses Dean’s face and Cas feels pleased to have put it there. Dean opens his mouth to respond, but they’re interrupted by the server coming to take their order. After asking for Dean’s recommendation, Cas agrees to a bacon cheeseburger and fries as well.

“In my line of work,” Dean begins once they are alone again, “I don’t meet a lot of people with...similar interests.”

Cas raises one eyebrow. “You’d be surprised what I come across at my work.”

“Oh yeah?”

“People come in with things lodged in their rectums all the time. Vegetables, electric toothbrushes, once—” he pauses while the server puts down their drinks. “A plastic minion figurine.”

Dean winces. “I think I would’ve taken my chances with that one.”

“That almost never works.” Cas takes a sip of his soda. “The best are the people who act like they have no idea how it got there in the first place. Had one guy tell me he fell on a cologne bottle and must’ve landed on it funny.”

Dean snorts. “Ok, at least I wasn’t that bad.”

“Believe me, you weren’t bad at all,” Cas assures him.

“Glad to provide some comic relief, at least. Your job must be pretty stressful.”

They continue to talk as they eat, getting to know a little bit about each other. Cas tells him about how he decided to go to med school and where he trained before coming to work in Lawrence. Dean tells him about his younger brother, Sam, a lawyer in town. Cas can practically feel the pride coming off of him in waves.

The food is good and more than once Cas finds himself staring at Dean as he licks a bit of ketchup off his fingers. When Dean notices him looking, Cas can see some of that swagger return.

“So,” Dean says when they’ve paid and are standing outside in the autumn chill. “I believe you have something to teach me.” He’s leaning against the brick, hands shoved casually into his pockets. It’s all Cas can do to keep from pinning him there. Instead, he moves in close, close enough to see each freckle and eyelash.  

“There is nothing I would rather do.” Dean’s eyes light up at the prospect, and Cas hates to utter his next word. “However.”

He sees Dean’s attempt to look unfazed, but he doesn’t miss the flicker of doubt that crosses his face before he answers breezily, “There’s always a however.”

“Not that kind,” Cas says. “But I have an early shift tomorrow and I happen to know that you should give yourself a break from anything too strenuous for a few more days.”

“Strenuous, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Cas closes the distance between them and kisses him.

*

They spend the next few days texting back and forth. Little things like what Dean’s having for dinner (Cas texts back a picture of his cafeteria tray) and random commentary about their days. It’s casual and playful but there’s an undercurrent of flirtatious tension as they wait for the next time they can get together. When Cas asks how Dean’s back is doing he shoots back _That’s between me and my doctor_.

It’s a Thursday night when their schedules align and Cas shows up at the address Dean has texted him.

Dean answers the door in just a t-shirt and jeans and there’s a stilted, mostly chaste kiss before Cas follows him into the apartment. Dean looks over his shoulder to ask if he wants a beer and catches Cas staring at his ass.

“Like what you see?” He gives an impudent little wiggle as he reaches into the fridge.

Cas takes the bottle. “No complaints so far.”

“Awesome.”

They sip their beers, making small talk. A silence stretches between them and Dean picks at the label of his beer. When he finally looks up again, it’s to gaze at Cas through his lashes. “So, you wanna do this or…”

Cas is on him in a heartbeat, pressing him up against the kitchen counter. He kisses Dean hard even as he blindly fumbles both of their bottles onto the counter. Dean goes completely pliant in the small space allowed for him, kissing back hungrily.

Dean has his hands in the back pockets of Cas’s jeans and he holds Cas close when Cas pulls away for them to catch their breath. Dean’s mouth is wet and shiny and Cas can’t stop staring at it. “Bedroom,” is all he manages.

After one final, dirty grind against him, Dean sweetly takes his hand, leading him through the living room and down the hall. Before Cas can even close the bedroom door, Dean has his shirt pulled over his head. Cas has persevered through years of med school and specialized training. He’s conditioned to deal with unexpected situations without losing his cool, and yet the way Dean is standing there, so unselfconsciously stripping down, has Cas almost too overwhelmed to move. Dean’s down to his underwear and Cas is still standing there staring. When Dean drops onto the bed, Cas finally springs into action. In his eagerness, he pulls off his own shirt while stepping out of his jeans, and loses his balance. Dean has a hand at his waist to steady him.

Cas doesn’t even have the chance to feel embarrassed because Dean is looking at him with his lips gently parted. “Jesus, look at you.”

It’s all Cas needs to get himself re-focused. He stands, looking down at Dean, and Dean lounges back onto his elbows, like he’s offering himself up. With a mere flick of his chin, Cas has him scrambling up the bed to lie flat. Cas climbs onto the bed, crawling until he’s hovering over Dean on his hands and knees. No part of them is touching except for the inside of Cas’s right knee brushing Dean’s left hip but, nonetheless, Dean shivers visibly. Cas bends down just enough to brush his lips over Dean’s, more a promise of things to come than an actual kiss. Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s shoulders, trying to get him closer, but Cas stays out of reach while shaking his head slowly. “I’d like to do this my way. You good with that?”

As he watches, Dean swallows hard. “More than.”

Cas smiles down at him. “So where would I find—”

Dean gestures to his left. “In the drawer.”

Cas grants him one more kiss before climbing off him and investigating the contents of the drawer. The Space Cram is a sight to behold, bright blue silicon flecked with teal glitter in the shape of a rocket. The flared base is made to look like billowing smoke, in sparkling silver. Cas takes it, along with a bottle of lube, and slides the drawer closed again.

“There are condoms in there, too,” Dean points out. Cas raises an eyebrow at him in silent rebuke and Dean smiles. “Your way. Right.”

He stretches out alongside Dean, letting his eyes rake over him from spiked hair, down across broad shoulders and chest, to his boxers and delightfully bowed legs. Cas wishes Dean were tied up with a ribbon so he could unwrap him like the gift he is.

Dean watches him look, not even blushing under the scrutiny. He seems to be waiting patiently, but Cas notes the way his fingers twitch, grasping at the bedding under him. Cas leans over, taking his face gently in his hand to kiss him firmly. Dean’s mouth opens right away to let his tongue in and, as they kiss, Cas feels Dean place his hands carefully, resting them lightly on Cas’s shoulders. When Cas makes no move to stop him, he wraps his arms around Cas, pulling him close. Cas mouths at his jaw, thrilled by that little bit of hesitancy Dean's offered up.

He rolls onto Dean, feeling the hardness of his erection straining through his boxers and allows himself a moment of rocking their hips together before sliding down to kneel between Dean’s legs. He picks up the dildo and lightly traces it over the fabric, dragging it slowly downward. “The secret to this is to be equal parts relaxed and desperate.” He leans forward to plant a kiss at the soft spot right below Dean’s navel. “Let’s see if we can get you there.”

Dean cants up his hips, clearly eager to get naked, but Cas leaves his boxers on. He tosses the toy to the side and runs his hands up Dean’s thighs to tease them under the fabric. He plays with the wiry hair there, keeping his touch light until Dean starts to arc upwards. Then he moves his hands to hold Dean’s hips down, gripping tightly while he licks and kisses his way up Dean’s sternum. He indulges in another make out session, soft kisses and lazy tongues, exploring without haste until Dean relaxes under him, the grip on Cas’s shoulders turning into massaging stokes. Cas is kissing along Dean’s jaw when he grazes the pad of his index finger over Dean’s nipple, causing him to hiss like he’s been shocked. Cas smiles against his skin. Good to know.

He finally takes off Dean’s boxers, careful not to touch his cock at all as he does so. He can see the way it’s flushed, pre-come pearling at the tip. Involuntarily, he licks his lips, wanting to taste it but he makes himself wait, leaving Dean hard and ignored in the cool air while he focuses his attention on Dean’s ear and neck instead. Dean threads his hands into Cas’s hair, and Cas alternates between barely-there nibbles and licks and using his teeth to scrape at Dean’s ear lobe or nip at the cord of muscle that runs to his shoulder. There’s a delight in listening to Dean react, the soft gasps that escape his plush lips and the creak of the mattress as he rocks his hips up into nothing.

He continues to work him up then bring him down, slowly building a trust that he has no business earning after knowing Dean for so short a time.

Cas works his way along Dean’s collarbone then down to flick his tongue over a hardened nipple. It earns him his first real moan and Cas has to press his palm against his own dick to give himself a moment of relief. He moves between the two, sucking and biting until Dean is whimpering and trying to roll onto his side, desperate to rub against any part of Cas. That’s when Cas repositions himself, pressing a kiss to Dean’s waist and then one at his hip before he kneels again between his legs.

He kisses the crease of Dean’s groin, running his tongue there firmly so it doesn’t tickle, and makes his first pass of a dry finger across his hole. Dean responds by bringing both knees up, spreading his legs to give him more access. Cas lets out an actual snort. “You want something?”

“Shut up,” Dean says, but there’s no heat to it. Cas kisses the inside of his thigh before reaching for the lube.

Glancing around, Cas asks, “Do you want to put down a towel?”

Dean fixes him with a look so intense Cas has to smile. “I don’t fucking care about that.”

Cas drizzles a generous amount of lube over his balls, letting gravity coax it downward. Dean lets out an _eep_ at the cold but closes his eyes as Cas begins to massage it into his skin, rubbing gently along his perineum with both thumbs before moving one hand lower to spread the lube around his rim.

He works slowly but with purpose and Dean does his part to help, pressing down to try and hurry the process. Cas can scarcely blame him; he’s been making him wait, keying him up in different ways while denying him the main event.

He circles Dean’s rim one more time, agonizingly slowly, and then he slides in two fingers without so much as a warning. The sound that comes out of Dean can best be described as keening and Cas can feel him bear down around him, not in discomfort, but a pressing back against his hand to try and pull him in deeper. He adds a third finger and picks up the dildo but he only uses it to trace a line along Dean’s thigh, then higher up, pressing into a spot low on his pelvis, all the while working his fingers in and out, opening him up. Pulling his hand out to ready the rocket, he holds it up so that Dean can watch him jack his lubed fist over it. Careful of his back, Cas maneuvers one of Dean's legs up onto his shoulder.

He presses the tip into Dean, but without any real intent, just enough to see it push past his rim. He turns it in slow circles and watches as Dean tries to pivot his hips to get it where he wants it. Bit by bit he works in his fingers and the rocket, sometimes a combination of both. He may have control, but he follows Dean’s lead, listening for the pace of his breathing and watching the way his hands twist the covers. Murmuring praise, he gets him open enough to take the widest part of it. Cas pauses there, his gaze riveted by the way Dean has opened up for him, split wide around the blue of the toy. Slowly he presses it in further but his focus is broken when Dean gasps and tosses his arm over his eyes. He’s flushed and beautiful and so close.  

“Open your eyes,” Cas says softly. Dean shakes his head, still hiding beneath his arm. Cas tugs the toy out an inch and Dean’s eyes fly open.

“Ok ok ok,” he chants, locking his eyes on Cas.

“You’re doing so well,” Cas assures him, sliding it back in again. “Help me out. Touch yourself.” Dean reaches for his cock. “Not there. Your nipple.”

With a whimper of frustration, Dean pulls his hand upwards, pinching his nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The hand that was over his eyes moves to his hair and Cas watches, fascinated, as he yanks at the strands.

Cas keeps the pace steady, sliding it in a little bit further, then tugging it out, adding more lube as needed until Dean takes it in completely, the sparkling base nestled snug against his ass.

“So good, Dean,” Cas praises, his voice rough. He twists it slowly until he’s found Dean’s sweet spot with one of the bumps that adorn the rocket. Groaning, Dean presses his heel down into the mattress while the other one digs into Cas's shoulder.  When Cas sees precome dribble from his slit, he reaches into the underwear he’s left on like an idiot and strokes his own cock.

The rocket is big enough that Cas doesn’t need to worry about the angle as he begins to fuck Dean with it using short, shallow strokes until Dean is moving to meet each one. There’s a slick squelching sound that’s so dirty Cas has to bite his lip to hold back a moan. Dean’s writhing now, his shoulders lifting up off the bed with each thrust. His hands roam across his torso, almost frantically, but still abiding by Cas’s instruction to avoid his cock. Cas feels a rush of affection that competes with his desire as he finally grants Dean permission to touch himself.

Dean's hand is on his cock lightning fast, and Cas tries to concentrate to see how Dean likes it, but he’s too distracted by the flush creeping down Dean’s chest and the way sweat glistens on his skin. Stroking himself in time with Cas’s thrusts, Dean comes with a shout, pulsing over his own stomach and chest. After easing Dean's leg down off his shoulder, Cas shifts until he’s kneeling over him, jacking himself off with his lube-slick hand. Still catching his breath, Dean blinks his eyes open and they widen as he realizes what is happening. He reaches weakly towards Cas but just the sight of him, almost drunk with pleasure, is all Cas needs. He grabs at Dean’s hip to steady himself as his orgasm crests, stroking himself to completion. Dean doesn’t flinch, just lays back and takes it as Cas’s come mixes with Dean’s, eyes fluttering shut as some splatters up to land on his cheek.

Cas slowly takes out the dildo, watching Dean’s face as he does, before taking a moment to admire the gape it leaves behind. Dean glances down at his chest. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me to get a towel.”

Laughing, Cas pulls off his own underwear and gets to his feet. “Tell me where they are.”  He’s back a minute later with a damp washcloth and a soft towel and gets to work cleaning Dean off. “C’mere,” he says, urging Dean to roll onto his side and face him so that he can rub Dean’s lower back. “Feeling ok?”

Dean nods, his face buried in Cas’s neck. “I feel great.” They lie there in comfortable silence, holding each other until Dean moves so that he can look at Cas. “How about you? I didn’t get to do anything for you…”

“You did plenty.” Cas runs his thumb over Dean’s lower lip. “And next time you can show me what you’ve learned.”

“Next time, huh?” Dean smiles, rolling onto his back to stretch. “Ow.”

Cas pushes up on to one elbow, concerned. “What is it? Your back?”

“Nah, my ass is sore. Think I might need some medical supervision tonight.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm. Hey, do you ever get to bring those white coats home from the hospital?”

“I do.”

“Do you...happen to own any cowboy boots?”

Cas sits all the way up. “Dean, the medicine on that show completely unrealistic.” He shakes his head in disgust. “So many protocols violated in a single episode. And everything is so dramatic! My job is nothing like that.”

Dean pretends to look confused. “Which part do they get wrong? The part where the doctor is tall and dark and super sexy? Or the part where he sleeps with his hot patient?”

Cas flops back down. “Ex-patient,” he mutters.

“Ex-patient,” Dean agrees, as he tugs the covers over them both.

“Fine,” Cas says, pulling Dean against his chest.

Grumbling, Dean lets himself be wrapped up in Cas’s arms. “Why am I the little spoon?”

“Doctor’s orders.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Cat and Chandra! Nothing says friendship like beta reading porn!
> 
> The inspiration for the Space Cram can be found here at the fabulously named [Hole Punch Toys](http://www.holepunchtoys.com/shop/crotch-rocket)


End file.
